


Redeemer

by CoffeeAndConjunctions



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU, Alchemist!Bruce Banner, Alchemist!Tony, Canon Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Literal Howling Commandos, Sexual Content, Werewolf!Steve, Witch!Darcy, Wraith!Natasha, hunter!Clint, supernatural!Avengers, werewolf!Bucky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:16:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6803791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeAndConjunctions/pseuds/CoffeeAndConjunctions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At his core he is neither man nor beast. </p><p>Not anymore, he was a mangled perversion of both--the touch of his aura alone was making her stomach queasy, the last time she'd left an aura this tainted was the accidental brush of fingers with Banner. Yet even Banner had the thin wall of civility keeping his monster at bay. </p><p>Barnes was pure instinct, pure wolf. </p><p>She moves her fingers from his temple letting them trail down the sharp contours of his cheeks before turning back to Steve. </p><p>"His connection to the Pulse is just strong enough to keep him strong but they left almost nothing behind Steve, I'm not sure I can get that connection back--" her teeth sink indelicately into the pump flesh of her bottom lip before sighing "But I can try."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. i. In Which Promises Are Made

i. In Which Promises Are Made

_New York City, 2016_

It takes a moment for everything to come into focus, the clip tones of the Tower's resident A.I is muffled as she tried to shake off the last tendrils of sleep--she couldn't have gone to bed more then an hour ago, the red numbers of her bedside clock agree with her, but J.A.R.V.I.S would not have woken her without need. Blinking at the ceiling she catches the tail end of the A.I's sentence.

"...ster needs your assistance in the lab urgently."

Throwing back the covers she does a sloppy roll to reach the edge of the massive bed before her feet touch the floor, the wood chilly beneath her bare feet and lunged forward for her discarded jeans on the floor. Stepping into the trousers with both feet she informs J.A.R.V.I.S she will be down in five minutes and asks if Stark or Banner are up.

"Sir is currently working in the facilities next door and Dr. Banner is supervising Dr. Fosters progress until your arrival."

"Thanks 'J' man."

"Of course Ms. Lewis."

Not bothering with real shoes she slips into a pair of flip flops by the door, lab safety be damned, and makes her way to the elevator that will lead down to the upper floor labs. It takes less then a minute to climb the 20 levels necessary and Darcy considers taking another few moments to get caffeinated but decides against it, she needed sleep. No avoiding it today, already she was pushing forty-seven hours supplemented by a cat-nap or two. 

Glass doors part when she puts in her clearance code and allows the panel to scan her thumb. The lab is eerily quiet considering the usual levels of chatter, music ad general sciencing that was the norm. Jane was set up in front of the dry erase board, slim fingers gripping a marker as she wrote at a languid speed. Banner lifts a finger before she can get any close and makes his way to the entrance.

"Not sure what triggered this one--no stars anywhere to speak of."

Frowning Darcy takes another long look at Jane before turning to Bruce who was very careful not to be within touching distance--he always took great care to avoid unsuspected touches after the last mishap. She wanted to reassure him her shields were up but that would mean acknowledging the whole thing happened which they had silently agreed never to bring up.

"What was she looking at, could an image on her desk top have triggered it?"

They spoke in hushed tones more out of respect then actual need, when Jane was mid-episode God himself could not bring her back--she should know after watching Thor try. Jane had rare gift, she was a Stargazer, the first be born since the connection between the Nether and Earth had been severed. The small woman would deny any such thing, she was a woman of Science, but when Thor had come down and the events of New Mexico came too be she couldn't deny it anymore. She was destined to be an Acolyte of Yggdrasil, a mender of worlds.

But Darcy knew her Janey would go kicking and screaming to her destiny. 

Equations littered the board now, each in an impeccable hand writing which she knew was not Jane's own normal illegible scribble which she had spent the last three years deciphering. Abruptly the episode ends and Jane teethes forward and the younger woman barely has enough time to shoulder the scientist weight before she sags in exhaustion. Dropping her shields she allows her aura to expand to guage  Jane's condition, she shined so bright--her connection to the _Pulse_ a burning fire where in most people there were only embers, but soon it would die down once more. Bruce has taken up Jane's other arm and is helping to guide the half conscious woman to her desk.

Tony enters from the adjoined room, goggles pushed up over his messy hair, uncharacteristically quiet. He'd been working the Elements then, nothing got Tony as unsettled as tapping into the Pulse, he rarely did it when an invention could solve the issue. From what Darcy understand his mother had been an element weaver--and Alchemist--and the son had inherited both of his parents skill set.

"Forster doing her Memento thing again?"

“Started without a triggered and stopped without covering the board, first time I've seen that before.”

Leaving Jane to slump against Banner the over tired and under paid (read: not enough for this shit) former intern digs through the drawers of the desk for the contraband sugary snacks the eggheads think she doesn't know about.

So smart, yet so naive her scientists.

Plucking out a pack of Devil Dogs from a freshly opened box she unwraps the treat and hands to Jane who wastes no time in digging in, tossing a pack at Stark who was making eyes at the box she wiggles another pair at Banner who declined with a shake of his head and a half smile.

Picking out a pair for herself she drags over a lab stool to perch herself inform of Jane, plastic wrap clenched in her teeth she extends her hands and placed them at Jane's temples and lets the pull and wane of the Pulse pull her in.

She was a novice Witch at best, her combat magic was shit—her potions had a sixty percent success rate when she was bragging—but in this she was nearly unmatched. It's what had gotten her into Culver in the first place. Her affinity to the Pulse was first class and she'd been tapped more then once to study as a Nurturer of fledgling magic users or a Negator to those deemed too dangerous to be allowed free reign.

But all of that was heavy, responsibility laden shit, and in the infamous words of—well of herself—fuck that noise.

 _Fuck it sideways_.

Slowly she closes the door to Jane's mind to the Pulse, quelling the flames from her mind until it was under control again. Now while this wasn't strictly necessary, the power would fade eventually, without Darcy Jane's recovery time was a week. She'd been sickly as a child, a prodigy but frail of body and never known why till Thor had explained it.

This time she flashes to a winter night '--huddle under the covers with her mother, gazing up at the glow in the dark stickers she had bought cheap at the store she makes up constellation and gives them nonsense names--'

A good memory, warm with fond nostalgia.

“Thanks Darce.”

“No problemo Boss Lady, but this means I expect breakfast at the greasy diner on 43rd.”

Letting a out a bit of forced air she no doubt meant as a laugh Jane nods and rises from the chair, looking to Banner and Stark to see if they were joining in.

* * *

 

_Romania, 2016_

“Cap, I've got eyes on target—I have a clean shot, orders?”

Sam Wilson laid in the underbrush, carefully down wind from the target. After months of searching and near misses he finally had a clean shot in his scope.

The com is silent for a heartbeat or two before Steve replies in clipped tones of forced calm “Take him down, we only get one shot but once he's down shoot again. We don't know how much his body chemistry will fight the tranqs.”

“Rodger, Cap.”

Finger on the trigger Sam draws in a long inhale, holds it as he lines up the hairs of his scope. A breeze comes over him and he freezes, his scent will be carried up wind—just when the target turns in his direction he exhales sharply and takes the shot.

“Target is neutralized.”

“Moving in for extraction.”

Silence but the crunching of combat boots on snow comes through the com until a faint murmer of 'I'm taking you home, Buck.' drifts through the line 'it's my turn to take care of you.'

A promise made.


	2. ii. In Which Plans Are Made

ii. In Which Plans Are Made

 

He hadn't moved far from the still form of Bucky since the Quinjet had taken off, their ETA was down to three hours, Sam's voice is soft when he speaks despite the fact that the man on the stretcher couldn't be awoken by a sixteen piece band let alone his voice.

 

“Hill's on the line Steve, needs to talk to you.”

 

His sharp senses catch the spike in Sam's scent, speaking to Hill always puts Sam on edge, no doubt it was the nonsense tones she seemed to default to.

 

“Can it wait?”

 

He's hesitant to leave his Beta's side. Afraid if he turns his back he'll be gone again.

 

Scoffing the dark skinned man crosses his arms and lifts a brow at the question, “If you want Hardass Hill to hear a 'no' its gonna come from your mouth Cap, you heal faster.”

 

“Sam.” He pitches his voice in a soft reprimand, “Agent Hill is capable woman, a valued colleague and I doubt she'd appreciate that particular moniker.”

 

“Uh-huh, yet even with all of that you still don't ask her out.”

 

Sighing Steve rises from his seat, laying a hand on Sam's shoulder as he passes him by, eyes flickering to Bucky in a silent question which is answered by the younger man taking up his vigil. The cockpit of the quinjet doesn't afford much privacy but he know's Sam's loyalty is unquestionable and has been ever since they started this journey together.

 

“Agent Hill.”

 

Clip and cool her voice comes through the line he's patched into his com, “Captain,” she says by way of greeting and he can practically hear the salute in he words though she's never performed the action “Wilson tells me your search has finally borne fruit.”

 

It'd taken him sixteen months of on and off again searching but it was worth it to finally say the words, “I'm bringing him home.” theres just the quiet sounds of her exhale on the line for a long moment.

 

“Are you really?”

 

A growl he hadn't meant to let escape fills the silence of the quinjet, he hears Sam shift his body—angling it towards him but ignores it in favor of glaring down at the control panel.

 

“Steve, I know you don't want to hear this--” her use of his name is rare, he is always Captain and she is always Commander “--but the man you knew might not be the man you are bringing here. I know what Barnes means to you and what you would risk for him, but are you going to ask everyone at the Compound to risk the same?”

 

“I'm not asking.”

 

“I know.” She replies not missing a beat, “The same way you know you wont have to, despite it all they trust you but I want you to remember that Barnes is not your only friend and that my priority is the safety of the Team. Are we clear, Captain?”

 

“Of course, Commander.”

 

“Good, I will have Medbay ready for your arrival.”

* * *

After scarfing down breakfast with Jane and the Science Bros, Darcy makes bids them goodbye at the elevator and it is a testament to how tired she is that there is not even a half hearted threat to see themselves to bed as well because she knows it'll be ignored and she barely has enough energy left to walk.

 

She can't be bothered to make it to bed so she curls up on the couch and drapes the afghan over her legs and surrenders herself to sleep. Or she would have if J.A.R.V.I.S hadn't piped up right as she was about to succumb.

 

“Miss Lewis, priority call from Commander Hill.”

* * *

Natasha's face betrays nothing but Clint knows better then to ignore the twitch of her jaw. Putting down the ax he's been using to splinter logs he wipes his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt.

 

“Nat?”

 

“Rogers is bringing Barnes. Hill wants us to report to the Compound.”

 

“For what, moral support?”

 

“I think she has something more physical in mind.”

 

“Will you be okay?” Clint knows about Barnes the way he knows about everything else, they have no secrets between them and it is her single greatest achievement—also her biggest fear.

 

“It was a long time ago. Who knows what he remembers.”

 

“That wasn't what I asked.” Stepping close he invades her space and comes to sit next to her, looking out into the horizon.

 

“My past is mine, but it's not me.” Her eyes flicker black for a moment as memories surface before she pushes it all back down. She needed to be more careful, her powers had been on the fritz lately, harder to suppress.

 

He nods but doesn't turn to face her, “Banner will be there too, most likely.”

 

Fingers fly over the keys of the phone, sending back a reply to Hill, “If I'm really lucky Barnes will go full Terminator and kill me before I have to do the awkward 'sorry I pushed every boundary of our almost relationship and fucked it all up' conversation.”

 

“Again?”

 

“What is the appropriate number of apologies to reach?”

“If he doesn't understand why then fuck him—now I like the good Doc myself but you've done enough on that end.”

 

“The apologies aren't about him.”

 

“Sentiment still holds.”

 

Dark brows furrow down at the phone again, deeper this time, he catches it out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Hill wants us to bring in Lewis.”

 

“No.”

 

“Clint--”

 

“Fuck. No. She's a kid and you all shouldn't have let her do it to me.”

 

“It was her choice to make.”

 

“Only because you gave her one.”

 

“We need Rogers. Rogers needs Barnes.”

 

“We can't ask her to do this Nat.”

 

“We aren't. Hill's apparently already secured a yes. Wheels up in twnety.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Comments and Kudos, I hope you all enjoyed chapter two. I plan to update once a week but if time permits I will do more.


	3. iii. In Which Characters Enter Stage Left

iii. In Which Characters Enter Stage Left

The office she occupied in the compound was all clean lines and modern—despite being here for the last eight months there weren't many personal touches to the office, a hard habit to break paranoia. At the right corner of her desk there was a carefully cultivated bonzai tree, it gave the room a hint of green and had been a gift. Long fingers dragged across the prickly needles of the tree, much like the tree Maria manipulated the players on the board to be where they needed to be to be most effective.

It was a job any envied her or pined on her ambition—her need for control—and that all may very well be true to a degree but truth was she did not enjoy being a Handler. Every pre-mission decision made, every preparation accounted for and redundancy plans put into place was done by her and if it went wrong it wasn't just a mistake. It could cost lives, which she'd learned the hard way.

Her right hand held a pair of small shear loosely, all part of the house warming gift that Captain Rogers had presented her with when she'd accepted the job. It had irritated her how perceptive the gift had been, a safe canvas to make decisions on—where the cuts didn't really matter and would grow back in time. He'd had that aw shucks persona of his firmly in place, spewing out something about his mama and good manners. She'd leveled him with a cool look and a polite thank you but that too earnest look never left his face. For a moment she had wanted to believe there was no ulterior motive but if S.H.I.E.L.D taught anything it was that there was no such thing as pure intent. Still wherever he came into her office and eyed the plant she'd catch glimpse of something on his face which made her think something else was going on.

Or she was just jaded enough to believe even the infamous Boy Scout wasn't without a selfish agenda.

Putting down the shears she leaned a hip against her desk, hands coming to lay flat over the cool glass leaving smudges. No need to subject the plant to an over zealous hacking because of her inner turmoil—that's what punching bags where for.

Still, fists couldn't solve this any more then careful planning would do more then just blanket the inevitable fall out of Barnes presence. How could she turn him away? Not because he was Rogers friend, she didn't owe Rogers the time of day but as a former marine she couldn't abandon a H.Y.D.R.A POW of seventy years. So she'd made the call an hour ago and brought in Lewis—the same call she had castigated Natasha on making for Barton. As involved as Lewis was she was still only a civilian and Maria's visions—choppy and cryptic as ever—kept showing her the girl. The last vision had come after she'd ended the call and nearly laid her out on her ass—they only came that strong when a final decision had been made, when there was no more room to back track.

_A scene of a pale, naked girl huddled into herself, a black wolf too large to be natural with bared teeth and looming storm clouds._

Maria as a child had been glanced over when it came to Pulse sensitivity—she wasn't from a lineage and her family had only had one witch in her ancestry—her gifts could be passed off as a child's fanciful imagination and impressive intuition as a woman. And it had been for the most part, till S.H.I.E.L.D and Coulson.

And now it was time to bring the girl to the Wolf and hope that she could keep the storm at bay.

* * *

Darkness

 

The scent of gun oil, leather and peppermint candies

 

A weightless feeling, gliding.

 

A flutter of lashes tickling it's skin—functionality at sixty percent.

 

_The Asset is compromised._

 

But the smell of peppermint is familiar, with an undertone of something wild.

 

Darkness

* * *

 

Tugging at the lose thread of her most comfortable sweater Darcy allowed her senses to be carried off by the passing wind, up into the gathered moisture of the clouds were there was just a hint of warmth from a fresh risen sun following the pull of the Pulse weaving its way into the world--stunted in most placed but repairing itself. She's jolted back when Jane squeezes her fingers entertained with her own, it wasn't to gain her attention she was still stubbornly not looking at her with lips pursed in a hard line, it was almost as if she needed to guarantee she was still beside her.

Bruce sat in the co-pilots chair next to Tony, no doubt to avoid the tense energy between the two women.

"Sir, we have an ETA of fifteen minutes to the compound. I've advised Commander Hill of our immanent arrival."

J.A.R.V.I.S breaks the near hour long silence between them all since the end of the explosive fight she and Jane had in the lab and Tony had finally given up on getting more then a glare or a pointed look as a reply to his usual coping antics.

"Thanks pal--" he turing in his chair, somber was an expression she had never pictured on Tony's face but it settled familiarly over the lines of his face--as if this was the default setting, "Lewis, you don't owe anyone a damn thing. You can walk away right now--take a Bora Bora vacation on me--but you _can_ walk away ."

"And be on the receiving end on one of Cap's 'You've Let America Down' faces? No way, Jose. I think a bald eagle die when Cap makes that face and they are an endangered species. Plus, I've done this before."

The attempt at humor is armor, she knows and he knows because he was using long before he built himself a suit.

A sharp intake of breath is the only warning before Jane snaps, her voice filling the Quinjet, "Don't--don't do that. Don't down this. Barton was under Loki's control for a matter of days. Days, Darcy. This special snowflake of Steve's has been under for over seventy years. How can they ask you to do this? I damn well know how, they didn't see you after Barton. The didn't make hot tea at three in the morning, or watch you cry yourself to sleep. That's fucking how." 

Wincing she tightens her grip on Jane's hand, the delicate bones of her fingers shift with the pressure. "Jane, Clint didn't ask for help. I volunteered. Same as I did now. It's my choice Boss Lady. I know you don't like it and I'm not asking you too cause the prospect scares the shit out of me. But if I don't help then they will assign someone else to do it. Someone who might not have such an awesome tea maker on their side."

With the same suddenness as her outburst Jane deflates, the jet lands smoothly and the conversation is ended when the platform lowers and they see Hill waiting for them flanked by Natasha and Clint.

The filing out the jet she sends the best smile she can muster at the three, she's never spent much time with Hill but the two spies she could consider distant friends at the very least. Manicured lawns and glass doors were her first impression of the compound, pretty if a little too new looking for her taste. It lacked the character age gives a building. 

"…we are taking every pro caution , I assure you Dr. Foster." she had not heard the begging piece of Jane's tirade but it was a strange sight when she did tune in. Tiny Jane on the tips of her toes like a bird about to take flight squaring off against the immovable force that was Maria Hill. The dark haired woman looked as composed as always but Darcy could feel the coiled tension wapping itself around her tighter and tighter.

Walking toward the duo she slings an arm over the scientists shoulder and is at a great vantage point to see the way Banner and Romanov are alternating between ignoring each other and lingering, soulful looks that she'd need to meddle with later."Woah there, I'm sure if we gave Hill a chance she'll be more then happy to debrief us on all things security--it's what she lives for Janey. Just let the woman do her job." sending a bright smile to Hill she makes a go ahead motion.

"Of course, Agent Barton and Romanov are here to secure Ms. Lewis personal safety at all times she is in Barnes company." Clint sends her a wink at his name and an eye roll is the immediate response but she's glad he's here--he understands, "All sessions will be monitored and if at any point should Ms. Lewis life be endangered then this ends."

Letting out a whistle at the conviction in Hill's voice Stark can help but needle her, Darcy can see the intent on his face before the words are out, "And what about the good Captain? Does he know about these play date rules?"

"He doesn't get a choice."

* * *

 

Sam brings them in for a landing in Hanger Three where a team of Medics are there to meet them, he hangs back--putting a hand on Steve's shoulder to keep him from following, the needed to meet Hill in the briefing room before he could start pulling his lone centurion thing again. He's never seen Rogers look like this before, so haggard and worn--so human and far removed from his usual quiet, steadfast presence. 

"Come on Cap, nothing more we can do for him now. Docs will patch up what they can."

"I know, just--I can't even feel his bound Sam. He's pack, always been my Enforcer but now..."

He doesn't reply, conceptually he knows what Steve is saying but somehow he doubts that something so animal can be put into human words or feelings so he lets it linger for a moment before giving his shoulder a squeeze and heading to Hill. After a beat the blonde follows.

Walking a brisk pace they reach the briefing room and find it full. He recognized Stark, Banner and Natasha (and the curve of her ass in that catsuit, damn) but the two women and another blonde man are new to him.

"Welcome back Captain." Hill begins with no preamble, had to admire a woman who got right down to business.

"Commander." He sees the occupants of the room stiffen almost in synch, Rogers voice washes over the room like rolling thunder but Hill stand immovable and Sam remembers his sophomore science teacher talking about unstoppable forces and immovable objects. In a more restrained tone he addresses the rest of the room with a curt nod and a tired smile "Folks." It eases some of the tension but Sam watches him make his way to stand beside Hill wearily. Cap's been on edge too long, hadn't allow himself the Change in longer. It was all going to come to ahead and the former pilot wondered if even Commander Hill could stand unmoved before that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there hasn't been much Bucky yet but he is coming, I promise. I know the mythos of the story isn't super clear yet but it will unravel with the story. As always thank you for reading, commenting and showing your support.


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